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Quiet Invasion(136)

By:Sarah Zettel


From the beginning, Su had known the events on Venus would end up here, and she had thought she’d be ready to speak about them. But now that she was here, she was no longer sure. She had faced down the committee before, but never had her prepared speech seemed so…absurd. She was used to arguing civil rights, articles of incorporation, land ownership, and mineral exploitation rights. She was not used to making announcements of discoveries. Especially not like this.

Su glanced at the representation of Helen Failia, who sat next to her in another holotank. The real Helen was in her private office on Venera, wearing an assembler rig and watching the proceedings through her wall screen. The image beside Su sat as still as a stone, except for her eyes. Grim exhaustion still hung about Helen from dealing with the sudden deaths of the Cusmanos brothers aboard Venera, and those tired, determined eyes scanned the members of the C.A.C. They looked for the members’ reactions and tried to judge what Helen should do or say next.

The initial announcement about the contact with aliens had already been made. Now that the committee had sufficiently calmed down, it was time to move on and give them something else to chew over.

Su didn’t give Helen the chance to do or say anything. Speed-of-light delays could be so useful at times. Su just cleared her throat and spoke with a confidence that had more to do with political experience than honest belief. “I would like to take this moment to say that Dr. Failia and the governing board for Venera Base were quite right in bringing this situation to our attention immediately. This is a diplomatic event unparalleled in human history, and as such, it deserves to be addressed with immediate and undivided attention.

“We must not,” Su went on, “no matter how much our imaginations want to revert to old stories of invasion and attack, forget for a moment that our first indication that these…people existed was when they performed a rescue of seven human beings. Let me say that again. They rescued seven human beings. Seven human beings whose lives would have been lost if not for the selfless intervention of the aliens.”

Screen rolls rustled and Patrick James, a fat, florid committee member with a thatch of yellow hair looked up. “What about the eighth human being? The report says the scarab had a crew of eight.”

“Yes,” said Helen’s projection when the question reached her. “The eighth crew member, Bailey Heathe, was killed in the initial accident. His remains were not recoverable.” She did not glance at Su. Helen had told Su why the remains were not recoverable. They had agreed that that particular revelation should be left for later, if it ever needed to be brought out at all.

Secretary Avram Haight, a needle-thin man with pallid brown skin and his hair cut short under his black cap spoke. “Have these…People…said what they are doing here?”

This was going to be tricky. Su and Helen had worked on the wording for an hour and agreed that Helen, as the one from the scene, should deliver it.

“They are interested in surveying the planet,” said Helen.

“Just surveying?” Even through the holotank, Su could feel the weight of Secretary Haight’s gaze. “This is an exploratory team?”

The question traveled to Venus. Screen rolls were shuffled. Eyes glanced around the room, measuring reaction, guessing intentions. Su’s gaze met Edmund Waicek’s and saw nothing there but cold hostility. Frezia Cheney had been as good as her word, and Edmund’s spinners were now all in a scramble, reexplaining his every statement against the colonies, trying to salvage the impression that his judgment was sound and unbiased. There was even some careful talk of a conflict-of-interest hearing. Very careful, but there it was.

Every little bit helped. Some people were finally beginning to get the hint that a completely anticolonial viewpoint was no longer flying with the entire population of Mother Earth.

Finally, Helen’s answer reached the hearing chamber. “No, Sir, it is not just an exploratory team,” she said. Her voice was calm, but Su could see how tightly she held herself. “They wish to assess the possibility of establishing a permanent colony on Venus.”

Here it comes. Su held her breath. But the explosion did not happen. Instead the committee just murmured and whispered. Even Jasmine Latimer, who went in for shouting and pounding the table, blanched only slightly.

Maybe we can pull this off. Maybe it won’t have to be a circus.

“Dr. Failia.” Secretary Kent unrolled a screen and swept the gaze of her overlarge blue eyes across it. “What are the Venerans doing now?”

Again the speed-of-light delay stretched out. Helen’s image sat at Su’s side, making motions Helen had made six minutes ago. Does Edmund know I raked his background back up? Su found herself wondering. Probably not, or she would have felt the backlash by now. No, her campaign to keep him busy appeared to be working.